He smiles. Stops it forming all the way and straightens his features. Then smiles again. “Okay.”
“Okay,” I repeat, as he fixes his hair once more. “So, what do you think of Georgia?”
He’s grinning now. “Yeah, she’s cute. She’s really cute. But like . . .” He glances around the bathroom once more even though we’re still alone and the door remains firmly closed. “What’s gonna happen with . . . us?”
“Well, I mean, you two aren’t exactly exclusive, are you? Even if you date, you probably won’t be exclusive for a while yet.”
“I suppose.” He turns away from me and says his next words to the Finn in the mirror. “Aren’t you and Megs exclusive? Does she know about us? What if she finds out?”
“Um . . .”
I could tell him Megan and I agreed to a semi-open relationship. That would mean telling him I lied about our last two encounters, and as far as Megan’s concerned, we only snogged one time at Halloween because he was being a sad sack on his lonesome. It would also involve some kind of plan or strategy to confess to the rest, and well, I fucking hate making plans.
I go with some semblance of honesty. “She . . . knows we kissed, which means Georgia knows too. Megs said she never told her, but that’s bullshit. I’m not that stupid. I guarantee the second I finished telling her, she was texting George. I haven’t said anything about Leicester or what happened at yours. And . . . I’m not sure that I will.”
It’s damning. I’m officially a cheater. An adulterer. A rat. An asshole. And now would be a good time for Pi to back out of this whole arrangement. After all, Megan and I will not survive this.No relationship stands a chance when there are secrets this big. I love Megan, but I’m intrigued by Pi, and this will only end when one of them calls it a day.
Because it won’t be me who ends it.
I want my cake, and I want to eat it too.
“So, they know we kissed?” Pi asks.
I nod.
“But nothing else?”
“No.”
“And you’re happy for us to keep meeting up?” He’s holding his breath. His body is so still that there’s no rise and fall of his chest.
“I would really fucking like that.” My voice comes out as a whisper.
“If we continue . . .” He shoots another look towards the door. “We’d be doing it in total secrecy?”
“Yep. Pretty much.”
“Are you okay with that?” he asks.
“As long as you are?” We’re just having fun. We’re both aware of that. There’s no reason for either of us to turn a molehill into a mountain.
Pi’s cheeks are flushed, he wets his lips, and my eyes home in on the movement. “Good, because the next time we hang out, I want to get on my knees for you.”
“Fuck,” is all I can say in reply, before Pi walks out of the bathroom.
Of course I watch his ass as he goes.
Chapter 18
Finn
Wednesday 24th December 2025
Okay, I lied. When I said Wham’s “Last Christmas” was the only decent modern Christmas song, I was wrong. “Driving Home for Christmas” is also a fucking banger. It’s soperfectly apt for this moment right now that I’ve looped it to play three times in a row.
Pi’s ferrying us and his dog to my parents’ house in Newquay because, and I quote,“It’s not that I don’t trust you to drive us safely, Eggs, it’s just that I don’t trust anyone but me to drive.”
It’s fine. His white Honda Civic is the more sensible option over my pretty blue Subaru Impreza anyway. We can fit more luggage in the boot, including Logan’s Christmas presents and Trekkie’s dog bed, and besides, I can’t say I would’ve been super enthused to have his animal’s manky claws scuff up my leather. But my car has a cracking sound system. Pi’s has a base model radio and factory spec speakers, and his engine doesn’t make cool revving sounds either.
